


Gratitude and Illusion

by Rutkowski



Series: Rutkowski One-Shots [3]
Category: Angel: the Series, Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Humor, Complete, F/F, Implied/Referenced Suicide, One Shot, Season/Series 06, Season/Series 07, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-19
Updated: 2021-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-28 08:09:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30136569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rutkowski/pseuds/Rutkowski
Summary: Oneshot of canon divergence, S6 Wrecked and onward.Title & excerpts from VNV Nation's songs 'Gratitude' and 'Illusion'
Relationships: Faith Lehane & Tara Maclay, Faith Lehane & Willow Rosenberg, Spike/Buffy Summers, Tara Maclay/Willow Rosenberg, Willow Rosenberg & Buffy Summers, Willow Rosenberg & Dawn Summers, Willow Rosenberg & Spike, Winifred "Fred" Burkle & Willow Rosenberg, Xander Harris & Willow Rosenberg, Xander Harris/Anya Jenkins
Series: Rutkowski One-Shots [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2077671
Kudos: 4





	Gratitude and Illusion

_It is not love, if love is cold to touch_   
_It is not belief, when there's nothing there to trust_   
_Could not submit, would never bring myself to heel_   
_Determination grows, as each truth is revealed_

* * *

  
He put down the moving box and wiped his forehead in an obviously exaggerated manner. "So Willster, is that everything?"

It was. He knew it was because he had been the only person to help her move out of Buffy's place and into the small one-roomer they were currently overseeing.

Xander almost missed his best friend's response, the nod she gave that barely was. She stood next to him in the dark apartment, a small hovel that wasn't much better than the den where she had dragged Dawn just a day ago.

He didn't blame Buffy for throwing Willow out her home, risking Dawn's life like she had done just wasn't acceptable. Not _again._ It was also why he couldn't even offer his couch to his best friend, Willow was too unstable and Anya were still too angry at her.

"I... I thought I had it under control," she whispered. She wasn't sure who she was trying to convince, herself or everyone else. She already knew she had lost control when she had violated Tara's mind.

_Twice._

"So did we all, Will." Okay, they'd seen the signs but Willow was the one that's _in control._ She's the good one, he was the one who's supposed to mess things up.

He was the one who should've peaked in high school - and what a low peak that had been - while she was the one who would change the world for the better. He's a Harris, the family of drunkard screw-ups, while of the two of them she's always been the overachiever, ever since kindergarten.

_Isn't she?_

Just how did he become the guy with the upcoming wedding, fancy apartment and hopeful career? Shouldn't he be stuck in this kind of apartment - _at best_ \- while she were building her future with the love of her life.

The love she had driven away.

"Was it because of Tara...?" He didn't need to finish the question, they both knew what he was asking about.

She shook her head, almost as imperceptible as before. "No. It started before. It's why she left. It's what drove h-," she stopped herself mid-reply. "No, _I'm_ what drove her away. I did this, not the magic."

Xander massaged his temples. He's never been a huge fan of magic. While sometimes useful it was just _another_ thing that drove the two best friends apart and now? Now it's isolating Willow from Tara. From Buffy. From _everyone._

"I just don't get it. You and Tara were just... _You and Tara._ You were a unit, the unflappable team. The Dynamic Duo. Thelma and Louise. Cagney and Lacey. Another pop-culture pairing!" He sighed. "Why didn't you just, I don't know, take a break from it all? For Tara?"

She turned towards him and he shuddered at the despair that her ever-expressive eyes had made bare for the entire world to experience. Willow had never been an intimidating figure but now? Now she just looked _so very small._ "Tara never knew me as plain old Reliable Dog Geyser Willow, did she? If it weren't for magic I'd just be some girl, Tara never knew that girl. She never would have known that girl."

He sighed. He hated seeing her like this. He hated even more the small - but _oh-so-nagging_ \- feeling of schadenfreude at her finally seeing things from his perspective. "I happen to have more experience of that Willow than anyone else and you know what? She's pretty great too."

She rolled her eyes and scoffed in what he was _pretty_ certain had been disgust. Who the recipient of said disgust were wasn't as obvious at first. "Yeah, _right._ I still remember those years, I remember the pathetic little geek who was the also-ran of everyone she ever knew."

"That's bull and you know it. Tara loves you, she just want you to stop. She just want _her Willow_ back."

She sat down at the edge of the rickety bed that came with the apartment. _"Loved."_

"Huh?"

"She loved me. Past tense. She wanted me to stop so we could go back to normal." She spoke slowly, the words carefully chosen to not trigger the breakdown they both knew were destined to make an appearance in the very near future. "And then I did it all again."

"But now you can get better, you can win back her trust." It was a weak attempt at raising her spirits and he knew it. "It's over now."

"Exactly." She buried her face in her hands. _"It's over."_

* * *

  
_Torn and repaired, just to endure it all again_   
_Without a reason, for my place in all this pain_   
_Though well concealed, the scars they just compound_   
_Until there's nothing left of what was once my former self_   
_My god, look at what we are now_

* * *

  
The Magic Box's bell jingled, signaling the arrival of the last members of the research party. Seated in her usual place - positioned to get a clear sight of both the front entrance and the doors leading to her gym and the basement storage - Buffy glanced up from the book she pretended to read. She was pretty certain that she, Sam and Riley had gotten all of the demon eggs but Tara had insisted that they made certain the demons didn't use several spawning nests. Only then could they shut the door on the entire affair. "Will's still pulling a Phantom Opera again?"

Xander shrugged glumly and deposited the box of donuts on the table before stepping back in anticipation the feeding frenzy the Scoobies always initiated once tempted with the powdery sweets. "Yeah, she claimed she needed to study for the test next week. It's apparently _super_ critical."

Anya greeted him with a kiss and a smile. "Honey-bear, can you tell her that we'd appreciate better excuses next time?"

The rest of the Scoobies stared at her. "What? We all know Willow always study for those tests months in advance and that's _with_ hunting demons on the side," she stated, matter-of-factly. "She's obviously making it up because she's too ashamed of being an ass and hurting everyone to show up in person and make everyone really uncomfortable."

Tara frowned. "Anya..."

The ex-demon refused to backpedal. "What? You in particular should be happy about this new setup. Now you don't have to see your ex or even share the role of magic expert, it's the best idea that geek has had in years."

Opting to avoid further arguing on the subject matter - the issue of his best friend was still a sore point for his fiancé - Xander decided to disclose the other piece of bad but expected news that Willow had given him when he had called her.

"Good that you see it that way hun," he began and Anya tensed up as she recognized the tone her fiancé used when delivering really unpleasant news. "Because Willow also told me that she have to pull out of the wedding party. And wedding."

 _"What?"_ Tara, Anya and Buffy shouted in unison.

"Yeah," he frowned. "Once again she claimed 'studying'," he used his fingers to create sarcastic quotation marks as he spat out the words with venom even he himself didn't anticipate, "and said we deserved a 'best man' who fit at least one of the two words."

"She can't do that," Anya protested with a passion that was entirely unlike what she had displayed only moments before. "That's just irresponsible!"

"Hold on a moment," Dawn piped up from behind her homework. "Bailing out from helping Buffy to defend the world against demons and vampires is okay but not going to your wedding is being irresponsible?"

"Well duh," Anya rebutted. "New demons drop by like every Tuesday but my wedding is a once-in-a-lifetime event!" She glared at them, oblivious to how they couldn't see the obvious difference. "Okay, maybe twice-in-a-lifetime." 

Now even Xander turned against her. _"_ Hey!"

She smiled at him. "What? You got a dangerous job and I'm still young, I'm just hedging my bets here."

"S-so Willow's not coming to the wedding at all," Tara asked miserably. She hated how Willow felt she had to avoid all of their friends just because she didn't want to inconvenience Tara or Dawn. "Maybe I should just stay home instead, that way she won't-"

"NO," Anya loudly interrupted. "You're my best friend and I'm not going to let her take away my bridesmaid as well!"

"I appreciate the offer," Xander offered, "but she said that her decision was final and that we should all enjoy ourselves. And Ahn?" Anya turned to him, a frustrated expression steeling her for more bad news. "She said the wedding gift would be delivered to the location before the service begins."

"Oh," her mood inverted instantly. "All good then!"

* * *

  
_Without regret for all the things that we have done_   
_Thank you for all the doubts, and for all the questioning_   
_For all the loneliness and for all the suffering_   
_For all the emptiness, and the scars it left inside_   
_It inspired in me, an impetus to fight_

* * *

  
"Summers residence, Dawn speaking."

"Oh. Yeah. I'm Fred and I'm a friend of Angel. I'm trying to reach a Willow Rosenberg and Cordy said she could be reached at this number."

"Wow, you guys are _out of date._ We haven't even seen Willow in what, a year?"

"Oh. That's bad. That's really really bad. Do you know where she is? It's very important that we reach her."

"I think Xander got her new number. I don't get why you'd need her though, did your computer bluescreen? Because I should be able to help you with that."

"No, we need some help with a spell and-"

"Then don't call her. She's no use on that front, just trust me on that. I can hand the phone to Tara instead, she's a witch too but much less likely to magically drive your car into a brick wall."

"Wh-what? Brick wall?" Dawn heard how Fred covered the mic and asked someone on her end about spells for magic cars and the practical application of them. After a few frustrated arguments back and forth she returned to the phone. "I'm sorry but it's only Willow that we can use for this matter."

"Fine, I'll go and fetch Xander. It's not like he got anything better to do anyway."

  
_Ten minutes later_

  
"...hello?"

"Is this Willow Rosenberg?"

"Who is... Who's asking?"

"I'm Fred Burkle, I'm a friend of Angel."

"Angel? How did you get this number? Is everything okay?"

"Other than the complete blackout and ongoing slaughterhouse in the streets of LA, yeah!"

"Oh. So you guys noticed that too, huh?"

"Yeah, but at least it's over now. The Beast responsible is dead."

"Oh? You killed him then? That's good."

"Yeah, Angelus got him before he was knocked out."

"Doesn't surprise me, I've heard of some things he's pulled off since moving to-" The line went silent.

"Hello? Willow? Are you still there?"

"...did you just say _Angelus?"_

"Yes?" The groan on the other end was unmistakable in its frustration.

"So what happened, did Buffy decide to go to LA for a quick hook-up or has Angel _finally_ moved on?"

"Well, no. We kinda removed the soul and-"

"You removed the soul?"

"Yes."

"On purpose?"

"Yes."

"And you knew who Angelus was and what he's like?"

"Yes."

"...did you happen to do a bunch of drugs?"

"No. Not this time."

"But why would-," she paused and took a deep breath. She - if anyone - knew how often good intentions could result in catastrophic outcomes. "Nevermind. I guess you need my help in shoving the soul back into his body?"

"Actually, yes! Although..."

"What?"

"We kind of lost his soul."

"You lost-"

"Well, it was stolen!"

"You're still based in that old hotel?"

"Yeah, we're here right now. If you could drop by rather soon it'd be great because that Faith woman is in a coma and we're running out of time.

"I'll be... Did you just say _Faith?"_

"Yeah, do you know her?"

"You could say that. Isn't she supposed to be in prison?"

"Wesley broke her out."

"Wesley? _Wimpy Watcher Wesley?_ Tortured-by-Faith Wesley? _He_ broke her out of prison?"

"Well, yes? We needed her help with Angelus."

"The same Angelus you brought back by removing his soul. On purpose."

"Y-yes."

"And now Faith is in a coma? _Again?"_

"Yes," Fred sighed in growing frustration. "Will you help us or not?"

"I'll be there in twenty minutes. Please try to not open some portal to any hell dimensions until then."

"Well..."

"...you got to be kidding me!"

"Actually, it was last year. It was a whole thing, you can ask Angel's son about it when it's all over."

"Angel's so-. No. Not gonna touch that with a ten-foot stake. See you soon."

* * *

  
_For the conviction, for the purpose found along_   
_For the strength and courage, that in me I've never known_   
_And if it seems to you, that my words are undeserved_   
_I write this in gratitude for whatever good it serves_

* * *

  
"So Red, what's up?"

Willow sighed quietly and threw a quick glance at her passenger. This had _not_ been her day and she wasn't up to any Faith-styled insults for the remaining two hours of the ride to Sunnydale. In fact, she was sure she wasn't even up to driving for two hours after performing a series of exhausting rituals while also magically dueling some old power. But then again, Faith had just woken from a coma and probably didn't have a license in the first place so Willow at the wheel it was.

"That's a pretty loaded question."

Willow had to give it to her old enemy, Faith didn't take the easy opportunity to make some sexual jab at first opportunity offered. Maybe she had started suffering from some serious brain damage after all those comas.

"Well yeah, that's why I asked it. I mean here I wake up and there's good old mousy Red saving the day where a Slayer, several big-time heroes and some magical kid had failed. But you're not good old mousy Red anymore, are you?"

Willow snorted. "That's the crux of the problem, isn't it?"

Faith gave her a curious glance. "I don't know, _is it?_ Princess Margaret told me you were living in LA these days. What happened, the Scoobies got too small-town for the new and improved you?"

"Nah. I decided to take a tip from your playbook and make everyone hate me so they were forced to throw me to the curb," Willow deadpanned.

Faith analyzed Willow's expressionless face for a moment before breaking out in a grin. "Hah, good one. Sounds like you finally grew a sense of comedic timing."

Willow's attempt at stoic indifference failed and she couldn't stop her face from falling. "Yeah, that's me. I'm a regular Letterman."

"Oh shit, you weren't kidding?"

Willow shook her head.

"Damn. Wanna tell me what happened?"

"I'd rather not, it's not exactly something I'm proud of."

They remained silent for a few minutes.

"So, who'd you kill?"

"K-kill," Willow stuttered. "Who said I killed someone?"

"So you didn't kill someone, big whoop. What'd you do that was so bad?"

Willow sighed but remained silent.

"Come on, you know of the shit I've done to make everyone hate me. It's only fair I get to sneak a peek at your rap sheet and compare dicks!"

"It's just-"

"You _know_ I'll hear all about it once we get there anyway," Faith pointed out before Willow could make another attempt to ending the discussion.

The driver sighed in surrender. "So, what do you want to hear? A lot happened since I drove to the prison to tell you after Buffy died."

"Well, I'd say the obvious one is the fact that she's not kicking the bucket anymore. I'd go out on a limb and claim that it's pretty noteworthy."

Willow smiled sadly. "Yeah, that's an understatement. But you're right, we brought her back. Me, Xander, Anya and Tara brought Buffy back from the death after almost a hundred and fifty days in the afterlife. It took a lot of planning and a dark ritual but we brought her back. She's not like we expected her to be."

"Can't have been all bad. It's not like B's a zombie these days, right?" Willow sighed but didn't answer quickly enough for Faith's mental well-being, resulting in the Slayer turning to her with a disturbed gaze. _"Right?"_

"No, she's not a zombie. But she's not okay either. The ritual was interrupted by demon bikers and we thought it had been irrevocably stopped. We were wrong and she had to dig herself out of her coffin. To make it worse we later found out she wasn't in a hell dimension as we had suspected, she was in some kind of heaven all along."

"Well _obviously,"_ Faith scoffed. "Why wouldn't she be?"

"Because she died jumping into a portal to said hell-dimension. Last time a souled being died that way it resulted in Angel spending hundreds of years in hell so _yeah_ I'd say our worry was pretty legit. And when Buffy told us that we were correct it didn't exactly hurt the theory, either. That was before we found out she had lied the entire time and distanced herself from us. Not that I blame her for that."

"So B threw you out because you brought her back to life? Seems pretty harsh, it's not like you wanted to hurt her."

"No," Willow clarified. "Buffy threw me out because I got deep into dark magic, drove Tara away with said magic and then attempted to kill myself by driving into a wall."

 _"Damn_ Red. That's messed up. But wait, why did-"

"With Dawn in the car," Willow continued.

"Oh. _Fuck._ Okay, I get it now. Why didn't you stay with the Xanman? You guys were thick as thieves back in the day."

"His fiancé and I never got along and the Dawn affair didn't exactly make things better. Can't really blame her."

"So what, you just up and left SunnyD? Your parents moved out of town or what?"

"No. I can't move back to them for... reasons." Willow took a deep breath before continuing. "Just trust me when I say it wasn't an option."

"Hey," Faith turned back to Willow with an honest expression. "I know some shit about messed-up families, no need to elaborate. What'd you do once they ditched your sorry ass?"

Willow remained quiet for several minutes, her energy was focused on remaining coherent. She hadn't talked with anyone about the events of the last year and if someone had ever suggested to her that she'd spill the guts - in a non-literal manner - to _Faith_ of all people she'd be on the lookout for more of her interdimensional doppelgängers.

But on the other hand, the days where she could claim moral superiority over Faith were long gone. She had no illusion otherwise.

"I moved into a small apartment until the end of the school year. I stayed away from the gang so I wouldn't impose on Tara, she deserved to have me at a distance after all the shit I put her through. Xander got married to Anya - I heard it was a pretty nice wedding despite his family - and just a few days after I left town, Buffy was shot. Guy who did it went down guns blazing when the cops tried to apprehend him. Buffy's fine, by the way. Probably should've lead with that."

Faith shrugged noncommittally. "Figured as much, would've heard otherwise if not. I mean they sent you to tell me when she died last time around."

"Not really," she whispered and felt Faith staring at her. "I went to LA to tell Angel, that's something we all agreed I would be doing. My diversion to tell you was not in the agreed-upon itinerary."

"Oh. Thanks for that, then."

"No biggie, you would've done the same."

"No I wouldn't."

"No you wouldn't," Willow smiled. "But that's okay."

The two ex-Scoobies remained silent for a while as they slowly approached their destination.

"So why exactly are we headed back to your old hunting grounds? Miss Texas said it was something going on we needed to help out with."

"Xander didn't tell her much. Apparently it was a 'Big One,' _all-hands-on-deck_ and all that. An old enemy called the 'First Evil' is murdering girls who're supposed to become Slayers. Oh, there's also an apocalypse coming."

"When _isn't_ there an apocalypse coming," Faith asked rhetorically before eventually frowning. "Wait, I had a girl try to shank me with some wicked ritual knife a week or two ago. That's due to B's stuff?"

"Probably."

"Thanks for warning me," Faith growled bitterly.

"Hey," Willow protested. "It's not like I'm kept in the loop either, Fred only told me all this while we were preparing to return Angel's soul!"

"Fair enough," Faith offered as an apology of sorts. "So, looking forward to seeing Blondie again? Bet ya missed her something _fierce."_

"More than I've ever missed anything in my entire life," Willow whispered in full knowledge of Faith's enhanced hearing. "I got no illusion of even being welcome inside the house though. I'm sure that motel you used to crash in have a vacancy or two."

Faith snorted. "Hope you got your stake ready then because if it's as bad as you say there won't be anything stopping them from making you into a midnight snack while you're sleeping."

"Never leave home without one," Willow responded before glancing at her watch. "Shit. Can you hand me the water bottle in the glovebox?"

Faith opened the glove department and opened the bottle she found inside, handing it to Willow who had by then dug out a couple of pills from _somewhere._

"Hey, you're not getting high behind the wheel are you? I mean, I wouldn't mind except you're driving my sexy butt so I'd prefer if you're not stoned right now."

"It's just prescription meds. Anti-anxiety and anti-depression, nothing that impair my substandard driving skills. You're as safe as you can be," Willow said as she turned to Faith with a small grin, "considering we're heading to Sunnydale and all."

* * *

  
_Sometimes I wish, that you could see me now_   
_In the rightful place, where I knew that I belonged_   
_Sometimes I wish, that you might someday understand_   
_And close the chapter, and lay to rest the past_

* * *

  
"Just chill out," Faith said as she tried to reassure Willow. They stood side-by-side in front of the closed door that was the final barrier between the two outsiders and the house that had been a safe haven for both of them, at one time or another. "Even if nobody but the Xanman is happy to see you it's at least one more person that the amount that actually want _me_ in the vicinity."

Willow smiled vainly. "We _are_ kind of raising the bar in loathitude, aren't we?"

"Hells yeah. Now let's get this over with and once this mess is all over we'll split a tab at Angel's place," she grinned as she opened the door without even knocking and stepped inside.

Willow followed her just a step behind. "Wait, Angel has a bar where _you_ got a tab? Wouldn't you drink for free if that were the case?"

"Why do you think I'm offering to split the tab?" Faith turned from her travel companion and was greeted by a confused Xander and dispassionate Buffy, her arms crossed in a stand-offish manner. "I thought you said we only had one new houseguest?"

Xander looked at Willow suspiciously. "Only one I knew of, Faith's news to me too."

Faith kept her cool despite realizing that the invitation Willow had gotten from Xander wasn't one with a '+1' added. "Hey, got a spare bed for a wanted fugitive and missing geek?"

"What the hell is _she_ doing here," a voice they both recognized spat out with so much venom that even Faith had to make a double-take.

"I guess 'wanted' or 'missing' weren't the correct terms," she tried in order to dissolve some of the tension that Dawn's appearance had added.

Willow didn't take it as well as Faith had done. "Sorry. This was a bad idea. I-I'll go. I'll be at the motel, call me at my cell if you need me to research or-" she paused, remembering that they wouldn't want her to do any magic ever again. "Just-just call me if it's anything you need."

Dawn scoffed. "Good. If we need someone to wipe our memories and attempt to kill us with a car, you'll be the first we call."

 _"Dawnie",_ a new voice hissed out in an obvious reprimand and Willow shrank back even further, almost backing completely out of the house through the open door. Tara stepped into the living room, as gorgeous as Willow had ever seen her. She seemed more confident, more self-assured and Willow felt the pang of ever driving them apart. "The motel isn't safe with the Turok-Han and the Bringers running around town, Dawnie. Willow, the house is really crowded with the potentials but there's room in the basement. Faith, you can adopt that rolled-up mattress over there."

Willow nodded meekly and hurried past them to and through the basement door, her eyes kept to the floor as she passed the impromptu welcoming party. Faith looked at the offer with suspicion. "Why? Won't whoever has it get pissy if I snag their stuff?"

"She... She won't need it anymore."

Faith didn't need her to provide any further clarification.

_Thirty minutes later_

"Hey there, Red."

Willow shot up at the sound of yet another recognizable voice, resulting in her head colliding with the undercarriage of the stairs. She had found that only one mattress were placed in the basement and that it was already occupied by _someone_.Which was probably a good thing, considering the heavy shackles attached to the wall next to it. After briefly trying to recall if Buffy had those installed back when Willow used to live in the house she decided to make the small hole under the stairs her own little sleeping area, lack of mattress or even pillows be damned.

"Hi Spike."

"Didn't expect to ever see you again, not after the mess you left behind last time you were around."

She shrugged. "Didn't expect to ever come back.

The vampire plopped down on what was now very obviously his cot. "Figured as much. Didn't expect to come back after I ran off a few days after you did but here we are, all friendly and distrusted."

He pulled out a pack of smoke and held up the package to offer her one. It was more an act of politeness rather than any genuine offering - _Smoker's Creed_ and all that - but when Willow nodded he did not hesitate in throwing her the pack. He lit his own cigarette but when Willow threw the package back to him he noticed that she had already lit her own smoke before he had gotten the chance to lend her his zippo.

"So why're you not reconnecting with Glinda and the Whelp?"

Willow shrugged miserably. "I'm not exactly what you'd call _welcome_ in these parts. Xander asked me to come to help you all in this fight but it's not like I got people who were just waiting for me to drop by."

"You're mostly right," he agreed. "The Slayer, the ex-demon, the bit and the Watcher hasn't mentioned your name in months before this morning. Cards to the table - neither have I. Glinda's been missing you something fierce though, even if she won't ever say it. You know how she is, never want to make a fuss."

"Yeah I'm just certain she's been climbing the walls while waiting for me barging into her life and making a mess of it all over again," Willow muttered. "I never wanted to come back, you know? I've done enough damage to my friends here for a lifetime or three."

"So?" She looked at him in confusion as he continued. "I left town after doing something _much worse_ than what you ever did and yet here they are, all welcoming and trusting. Well, not the Whelp. Or the Watcher. But the rest seems pretty okay with it."

"Yeah but whatever you did that was before you got a soul," she glanced at him to see the surprise that was obvious in his facial features.

"Slayer told you already? There's no keeping secrets around here these days," he grumbled.

"Buffy hasn't said a word to me since before Xander's wedding. I'm a witch, remember? Gotten better at seeing that kind of stuff," she clarified. "Besides, you're with both a chip and a soul - and those fancy chains over there - so they won't have as much to fear from you. I'm just the lunatic who they all trusted and who then promptly ran roughshod over said trust but also completely lack any kind of checks and balances."

"No chip anymore, the Slayer had that removed a short time ago," he clarified as he put out the butt of the cigarette. "And I think you're wrong, there's one kill-switch in place in case you go all Wicked Witch of the West again."

"Oh? What's that?"

"Why do you think they put you down here," he asked. "With me, of all potential bunkmates?"

* * *

  
_But nothing would change, we make the best of what we have_   
_For we are measured by the actions of our lives_   
_We bide our time, let the future unfold_   
_Like immortals, in great legends to be told_   
_My god, look at what we are now_

* * *

  
Willow remained in her safe little corner over the next few days, hiding not just from the multitude of young women she didn't know but from those in the house that she _did_ know in particular. She ate, slept, researched and meditated in the corner under the basement stairs and only really left to clean her clothes or to take a quick shower when everyone else was sleeping or out on patrol.

Faith was her go-between, delivering food and the books she were assigned when there was research to be done. Xander tried to talk to her a few times but found only a shadow of his oldest friend remaining. The(mostly) self-imposed exile had shredded most lingering traces of the girl he had known for most of his life. Once he lost his eye in the ill-fated attack on Caleb's vineyard those visits stopped completely, his recovery taking precedence over any attempts at a reunion. After the coup - that removed Buffy from the home- had taken place it was Anya who dropped by, not her husband.

It happened only once, and only to yell at Willow for not being part of the attack where she could've protected him. And to shout at her for forcing them to use _Tito_ as the best man at their wedding.

The evenings mostly involved a short chat with Spike before Willow pretended to fall asleep. She knew that he wasn't fooled - vampires could hear the difference in waking and sleeping breaths - but both kept up the charade anyway.

In gratitude for the effort, Willow did her best to keep the silent crying to when he wasn't in the room.

The house was attacked once during her time in Sunnydale. It was while Buffy was thrown out and Faith were tasked to led an ill-fated attack that - quite literally - blew up in their faces. Willow hadn't been invited - or even informed - of the attack at the supposed arms depot but when a pair of Turok-Han crashed through the front window she sprung into action as if nothing had changed over the last year.

The potentials suddenly realized what Willow were bringing to the war when they were faced with the spectacle of two ancient vampires getting incinerated without any real effort on her part. The worried frown on Tara, once she saw the same feat, was enough to remind Willow why she had left the last time. She promptly retreated back to the basement without a word - they could repair the damages to the house without her help.

Then Buffy returned to the house with a new weapon and the leaders formulated a new plan.

Supposedly.

With Faith being mostly bedridden for another day, nobody remembered to inform Willow about the briefing or Buffy's big speech. She had been making a lot of those, according to Spike. She had also made a plan that she elaborated upon during said speech.

At least, that's what Willow thought. She wasn't really there to hear it.

"Where's your sleeping bag?"

Willow looked up from her position under the stairs to see Tara looking down at her, the weapon that Buffy had retrieved held idly in the Wicca's hands. Willow had been resting her head again, sitting on the floor while wrapping her arms around her knees to approach a miniscule amount of comfort. "What bag?"

Tara kept looking at her, nonplussed. "Your sleeping bag and pillow. Why are you not using them instead of just sitting on the cold floor like that?"

Willow shrugged. "Didn't bring one. Was planning to sleep in a motel, remember? Not much use of those, there."

Tara sat down, Indian-style. "So wait, you've been sleeping on the floor like this all the time you've been here?"

"Yeah. But it's okay, it's warmer when Spike's in here too. You know, more bodies in a room provide more heat."

"Will, he's room temperature." Tara did _not_ buy it.

"Point. On the other hand, why even bother? There's kids up there that need the stuff more than I do. I'm just glad to have a roof and four walls."

Tara groaned, loudly. "For crying out loud Willow, stop this self-loathing act and pull yourself together. We're going to need you tomorrow."

Willow snorted derisively. "Yeah, _'act.'_ Don't really need to fake my hate of the one bitca who ruined everything in my life that was good and worth a damn."

"So what," Tara replied in frustration, "you're just gonna stay down here until the day the world ends?"

Willow shrugged again. "Not if we somehow manage to pull out a win. I know, I've worn out my welcome here so I'll be out of your hair soon enough, no matter what happen."

Tara frowned. "So you're leaving again, just like that?"

"Well, _yeah?_ What else is left for me? Buffy doesn't want me within ten miles of her sister - a sister who is none-too-happy to have me around either. Giles has been looking at me all watcher-y ever since I brought Buffy back and I'm pretty sure he's going to arrange for my _'relocation'_ to some place where they can bind my powers as soon as this First Evil mess is over and done with. Anya just wants me gone, period, and Xander doesn't even recognize me anymore. Spike's been friendly though, he's wearing that soul with dignity. So what's left for me here? My parents? The same parents who - after a _year_ at UCLA - still doesn't know I've moved out of Sunnydale? Or how about the love of my life, the one who I drove away in my insane quest to fully control my life and everything in it?"

Tara tried to find the words to explain to Willow that she had already been forgiven - even if the violations would never be forgotten - but couldn't find anything that sounded like anything but weak platitudes and poor reassurances. Her eyes fell and Willow gradually folded back into the safety of her own arms and soon they both sat in silence, so very close to each other but somehow they still felt like they were miles away.

Suddenly Tara noticed something reflecting light from the top of Willow's bag and - curious to find out _anything_ about her ex's new life - she stretched her neck to get a better view of the offending item.

And then, once she realized what it was, she recoiled in shock.

"Why the _hell_ do you keep a revolver in your backpack?"

Willow - who up until then hadn't noticed Tara's discrete snooping - swiftly moved to close the backpack and put the offender out of sight. "Sorry. Didn't mean for anyone to find out about that."

"No shit," Tara spat out and Willow blanched at the total hostility that she were the recipient of. "I know Xander told you that Buffy had _almost died_ when Warren shot her and now you're bringing another gun into our home?"

Willow sighed and reopened the bag. She pulled out the revolver and opened the chamber; it was empty except for one single bullet. "Don't worry, I'm not preparing for a shooting spree. The safety's always on and up until now nobody even knew about it. It's not for fighting anyway, it's to keep everyone safe."

Tara softened somewhat but kept her distance. "Safe? With one bullet?"

The look she received from Willow explained everything for her, just what threat could be stopped with one single shot.

"I'm not going to let myself become the person I was, Tara. It's hollow-point so once it's fired it'll shred everything in my head in an instant. I'll make sure I'll never be able to do magic - or anything else - if I ever try to cross that line again."

Willow closed the revolver again and returned it to the backpack. She forced herself to look away so that Tara wouldn't have to see her own miserable expression as they continued.

It also meant that she didn't see Tara growing pale in worry following the matter-of-fact-ish declaration. "B-but can't you ask for help instead? You made mistakes, sure, but you don't deserve to _die_ for them."

"Who would I ask for help? The people whose lives I've ruined? My bigoted old neighbor-slash-landlord who keep leering at me when I pass him in the halls? My dean at the department?" She growled. "Dying's too good for me, the Powers That Be made it pretty clear. They must have some other punishment waiting for me or else I'd have died when I crashed that car as I was supposed to."

Tara grew cold as she took in the wraith of the women she loved.

_Love._

Present tense.

She wept silently for a while, safe in the knowledge that Willow wouldn't look up from her own little ball of self-loathing unless prodded. She wept for the love they once had, the love that still remained but was seemingly irrevocably damaged. Despite Willow apparently - _finally_ \- realizing that it was her need for total control that drove them apart it appeared to have been long for them to work it out again. Willow had refused to make contact, too unwilling to impose in Tara's life after the latter had ended their relationship.

Willow hadn't called her since Tara moved out of the Summers residence following the _Tabula Rasa_ debacle. She respected Tara's need for some time apart - almost to a fault - and far too quickly had they all grown too comfortable in the new _status quo_. Of all the Scoobies it was really only Xander who tried to keep his oldest friend in the loop, nobody else were willing to make the effort. If they were honest, most even wanted her to stay gone. At least for a while.

But not for a _year._

It was why only Xander had been given her new number once she transferred to UCLA last spring. Tara had wanted to call - she _hated_ how they had left things - but had too much stubborn pride to extend that small olive branch.

Which is a problem when one person is crippled by a fear of imposing herself onto the other while the other refuses to tell her that she's allowed to do so.

"I'm going to need your help tomorrow," Tara finally said.

The basement remained silent for a moment before she was given a muffled answer. "...okay."

Tara frowned. "Are you not going to ask what I need help with?"

"I figure it's holding down the fort here while you're all out being _big damn heroes_ tomorrow." Willow looked up and offered a feigned smile. "I can do that."

"That's not what I mean. Do you know what we're planning to do tomorrow?"

Willow shook her head.

"Buffy tasked me with using _this_ weapon, this Scythe, to activate all the potentials."

Willow's eyes grew wide. "You mean-"

"Yeah, turning them into real Slayers. It's some kind of Slayer weapon and from what I can gather the power that is responsible for all the Slayers run through it, constantly."

Willow accepted the weapon, giving it a thorough examination as a strange sense of imminent power was extended to her in the process. "Okay?"

"Problem is that we're going to need both Earth and Dark magic to do the ritual. I got plenty of the former but..."

"I'm the bad witch. Which is a good thing, for once. Yay for accidentally advantageous muckups!"

Tara sighed but let it slide, too exhausted to continue entertaining Willow's pity party. "So you and I are going to stay here until we have a certain way to do this thing because tomorrow? Tomorrow Buffy is taking all the girls into the Hellmouth to end this thing and they're going to need to be able to fight whatever is down there."

"So," Willow deadpanned. "No pressure then?"

Tara couldn't help the grin. "No pressure at all."

* * *

  
_Without regret for all the things that we have done_   
_Thank you for all the doubts, and for all the questioning_   
_For all the loneliness and for all the suffering_   
_For all the emptiness, and the scars it left inside_

* * *

  
Willow glanced at the cigarette with eyes that told stories of the exhaustion she felt within. She was dead-tired and would be home already - sleeping in a real bed for the first time since the last time she had gone to the Hyperion Hotel - if it weren't for Faith's reminder to split a tab once they got out of Sunnydale.

If she was honest to herself, she appreciated the gesture. No matter what else had taken place in Sunnydale, she came back with a friendship of sorts with the spirited Slayer - now one of _thousands_ instead of two.

And wow _did things happen in Sunnydale._ She managed to perform the ritual with Tara and - despite not mentioning it to her old girlfriend - she came away with a boost in her power that kind of terrified her.

She was _mostly_ certain that Tara had experienced something similar. And if she did, Tara also knew that Willow was keeping her boost from everyone else.

Just like Tara was doing.

Yeah, that trust within the Scooby Gang was doing just _fine._

It wasn't like they really had the chance to debrief after the ritual, though. Spike had sacrificed himself - and was _that_ not a weird statement to comprehend - and buried the city Willow had grown up in within a crater that was, appropriately enough, city-sized.

Soon to become a city-sized bay at the west coast.

Several of the baby Slayers died in the fight, an unfortunate and expected outcome even in the best of circumstances. That _Anya_ would join the ranks of the fallen was somehow still hard to get a grip on. She was older than everyone else on their side. _Combined._

And now she was just _gone._

It's not like Willow had ever liked the former demon but she had made Xander happy so _that sucked._ And _wow_ did Willow's distance from her old - _former_ \- friends make itself remembered when he hadn't wanted her comfort or reassurance, asking for Tara's shoulder to cry on instead. That hurt.

They had dropped off the Principal with the injured girls at the nearest hospital and the rest had converged at Angel's old hotel. Fred and Wesley were out, buying food and essential items for the new arrivals who were stuck in a weird state of celebration and mourning for those fallen.

And curiosity over their new-found powers, obviously.

"So, what's going on in that little noggin' of yours, Red?"

Faith accomplished her goal and shook Willow out of her reverie. "Huh?"

"You've been quiet for a while now which is either proof that you're doing some heavy thinking or a sign of the apocalypse and _we just had one of those_."

"Yeah. I'm just," she sighed. "I'm just _tired,_ you know?"

"Can't blame ya, doing that wicked mojo on the girls must've taken a lot out of you and Blondie. How's she handling it?"

Willow shrugged. "No idea. We haven't gotten the chance to talk since coming back here, with her comforting Xander and all."

Faith emptied the tumbler she had poured herself and noticed that Willow had already done so with her own drink. "Yeah, sucks for him. Didn't know demon-girl but they seemed to really love each other. They both deserved better."

"They did. I mean, I never liked Anya. I mean our history _started_ with her trying to have vampires kill me after I prevented her from unleashing hell on Sunnydale and you know what?" Faith shook her head. "She never even apologized. Everyone expected me to just suck it up and accept Anya despite the repeated hostility, insults and insinuations but she wouldn't even say she's sorry for trying to _murder_ me. But damn you Willow if you dare to give her even a little bit of lip, how cruel and insensitive of you despite the fact that the woman had over a thousand years to teach herself even the most basic of social interactions."

Faith anxiously looked at the empty glass in her hands. "You do know that I'm sorry for the knife and all that, right?"

Willow smiled. "Yeah, I do. You might not have said that you're sorry - until now that is - but I _know_ you are because you've made up for it! You've repented and tried to be better, Anya just spent years being wax nostalgic about the _'good old days'_ as a slaughtering and torturing demon. They were her good times while you tried to do better than when you were at your worst."

Willow went silent for a moment before turning to Faith with a grateful smile. "But I do appreciate it. I'm sorry for how I was in those days too, for what it's worth."

Faith winked in a vain effort to keep her cool distance from everything that's _'real'._ "So, what're you going to do now? Disneyland?"

"I'm going back home. Say hi to Fred and Wes from me when they come back," Willow said as she stood up and stretched before grabbing a pen to write something on a small post-it. She handed it to Faith with a five-dollar bill attached. "My phone and address if you ever need a place or crash. Or just to drop by. It's a dump but it's _my_ dump and I'm allowed to smoke indoors."

Faith nodded appreciatively before she held up the money. "And the cash?"

Willow dared another smile. "It's my half of the tab, remember?"

"We're stealing from Angel's private stash, it's all free."

"Yeah but that's the tip for our gracious host."

Faith guffawed as Willow left the office and promptly continued out of the hotel in a hurry, before anyone could notice her leaving. The front doors to the hotel closed shut just as Tara entered the lobby from the upper stairs, her eyes red and swollen.

She entered the office, taking the seat that Willow had just vacated.

"Blondie," Faith offered as greeting.

"Faith," she responded. "You haven't, well-"

"Seen Red around?"

Tara nodded, an embarrassed blush forming on her cheeks.

"You just missed her, she's heading home to sleep on an actual bed for the first time in forever."

Tara's face fell. "She... She left?"

Faith looked at her with a _'well, duh!'_ expression. "What did you expect? She's been treated like a leper ever since we arrived in SunnyD and the only people who wanted to even talk with her was the convicted murderer and vampire with tens of thousands of death on his conscience. Two people who has tried to murder her at least two times _each_ and now the vamp is dead and the murderer is drunk."

Tara frowned. "It was Willow who-"

"Oh _fuck that,_ " Faith spat out. " _Obviously_ Red is gonna hide away after the entire gang made certain she knew that she wasn't welcome. I were given a warmer welcome and I'm not the one who were coming back to the love of my life or best friends. To her _family._ "

"Really? Because I've seen how you've looked at Buffy and-"

"Not. The. Point," Faith growled and Tara grinned in response. "I'm the one doing the high-horsing here." She refilled the tumbler that she had yet to put down. "So yeah, we arrive and the brat tries to throw her out on the spot and then you send her down to the basement with said vampire - a vampire I later find out had been randomly playing serial killer up until _that very day_ \- to make sure your rabid ex doesn't act out of turn."

"That-that wasn't the idea. We had two places free; one in the living room and one in the basement. Willow have-had known Spike for years by then and I _know_ she hates to sleep close to people she's not snuggly - or at least close friend - with," she sighed in realization. "She really thought that I sent her down there to be watched by Spike?"

"I'm just surprised you didn't catch that earlier on," Faith shrugged. "I thought the same, especially after she was made to sleep on the floor under the stairs. Thought you were taking inspiration from the brat's Larry Rotter-books when you set that up."

Tara grinned. "You know, you can't play at not knowing the real name of the Harry Potter books when you're citing specific events in said books. Or, after I've caught you reading the third one while you were recovering from that bomb."

Faith glared at her for a few seconds before growling. _"Shut up."_

Tara snorted but soon regressed back to the earlier morose mood. "She really thinks that I hate her?"

"Probably," Faith deadpanned. Tara's falling face inspired her to offer some reassurance. "Or, if nothing else, she's certain that you're all done with her. I wager that, the way she sees it, her life that she had in Sunnydale is buried alongside Spike's dust and B's home." Faith downed the rest of her drink as if to add extra _oomph_ to the statement.

"And now she's gone and we have no idea where she is." Tara concluded as she fought back the tears that she thought she had previously exhausted while comforting Xander in his grief. "Would you mind pouring me a glass of whatever you've been having? I think I need it right now."

"It depends," Faith replied as she put down her own empty glass. "Do you want to find Red, kiss and make up, maybe even make with some happy screwing for old times' sake?"

"Yes," Tara answered without hesitation. _"Oh Goddess yes."_

"Then nope," Faith replied smugly as she took up an empty post-it and the pen that Willow had left behind.

Tara sighed in frustration with Faith's blasé attitude. "So what, you're a selfish drunk?"

"Nope. Not that it's my booze anyway but _Tara,_ " she copied the note she had received from Willow, "you can't be drunk when you go to _Willow_ at this address and actually tell her all the crap you've been holding back for a year." She thrusted the paper into the hands of the shocked Wicca in front of her.

Tara held the note with a reverence that made it appear almost holy, despite the fact that the writing was slurred and contained two different obvious spelling errors. "But-"

"No buts! Well, except those of you two when you get down to it," Faith growled while somehow simultaneously giving Tara a lecherous grin. "Because if you don't do that then I'm going to take this bottle, jack a car and then head to Red's place to fuck her so silly that she'll be unable to walk for _weeks._ "

Tara stood up and adopted an intimidating posture that actually seemed like something she'd be able to back up with force. "You're _not_ going to even try to do that, _Faith._ To to her, not to _my_ Will."

Faith stood up and adopted a stance of her own, the implicit threat somewhat undermined by drunken legs. "Then it's time you people stopped being fucking wiggy about everything and start to fucking act. Or fuck. Just go and fucking fuck _your Willow_ instead of waste time getting advice from a fugitive jailbird that never even finished eight grade!"

* * *

  
_It inspired in me, an impetus to fight_   
_To all who stood with me, when we stood as one_   
_Thank you for guiding me, for bringing me home_   
_And if it seems that I'm obliged to say these words_   
_I write this in gratitude, the least that you deserve_

* * *

  
The front door closed and Willow recoiled as she turned off the lights to her studio apartment. It was - despite the chaos that LA had seen in her absence - fortunately still in one piece and with no obvious signs of any intruders. A thin layer of dust covered every open surface and she collapsed into the dirty couch that had come with the apartment.

She left her backpack on the floor in front of her, too numb to even begin to plan the unpacking or even to turn on the TV. The mail she had collected downstairs was dumped on the worn table and her dirty boots dropped to the floor with a pair of heavy thuds.

After throwing her jacket on top of the previously discarded footwear she grabbed the blanket that had been left on the back of the couch when she first went to help Angel Investigations and pulled it over her, folding her legs to fully fit on the small furniture.

She used a quick cantrip to turn off the lights and return the room to darkness after cursing herself for forgetting to turn off the light - once she had been reassured she hadn't been robbed - and had almost fallen asleep when a pair of soft knocks stirred her from the drowsiness.

"I'll pay the rent tomorrow," she shouted without getting up. It went quiet for a few seconds before the knocking repeated itself. She sat up in the couch and growled, wondering just how evil it would be to simply magic away the hands of a crappy landlord.

She heard the door handle twist and quickly admonished herself for forgetting to lock the door, especially in an area as dangerous as the one she lived in(especially following the recent riots that followed Jasmine's fall). The door slowly opened and Willow's mouth fell open when she saw who it were on the other side.

"Things fall apart," the visitor began. "They fall apart _so hard..._ "

* * *

_I know it's hard to tell how mixed up you feel_

_Hoping what you need is behind every door_

_Each time you get hurt, I don't want you to change_

_Because everyone has hopes, you're human after all_

_The feeling sometimes, wishing you were someone else_

_Feeling as though you never belong_

_This feeling is not sadness, this feeling is not joy_

_I truly understand. Please, don't cry now_

_Please don't go, I want you to stay_

_I'm begging you please, please don't leave here_

_I don't want you to hate_

_For all the hurt that you feel_

_The world is just illusion, trying to change you_

_Being like you are_

_Well this is something else, who would comprehend?_

_But some that do, lay claim_

_Divine purpose blesses them_

_That's not what I believe, and it doesn't matter anyway_

_A part of your soul ties you to the next world_

_Or maybe to the last, but I'm still not sure_

_But what I do know, is to us the world is different_

_As we are to the world but I guess you would know that_

_Please don't go, I want you to stay_

_I'm begging you please, please don't leave here_

_I don't want you to hate for all the hurt that you feel_

_The world is just illusion trying to change you_

_Please don't go, I want you to stay_

_I'm begging you please, oh please don't leave here_

_I don't want you to change_

_For all the hurt that you feel_

_This world is just illusion, always trying to change you_

_Please don't go, I want you to stay_

_I'm begging you please, please don't leave here_

_I don't want you to hate for all the hurt that you feel_

_The world is just illusion trying to change you_

_Please don't go, I want you to stay_

_I'm begging you please, oh please don't leave here_

_I don't want you to change_

_For all the hurt that you feel_

_This world is just illusion, always trying to change you_

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading and please use those kudos/comments if applicable!


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